


Just A Boy Drowning In Front Of A Girl

by LibKat



Series: Jaime/Brienne Week 2019 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Another Surfer AU, Day 2 - Summer, F/M, JB Week 2019, Jaime/Brienne Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibKat/pseuds/LibKat
Summary: No matter what universe they're in, Brienne manages to find a way to save Jaime.





	Just A Boy Drowning In Front Of A Girl

**Author's Note:**

> There is a near-drowning in this fic. If this would be a trigger issue for you, please take care of yourself and don't read it.
> 
> I wanted to thank the folks who commented on my first JB Week fic. I'll reply to each of you once I've got all seven of my fics finished.
> 
> Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones, and these characters belong to a whole bunch of people who are not me. I will return them undamaged when I am finished playing with them.

JB Week 2019

Day 2 - Summer

Just A Boy Drowning In Front Of A Girl

Brienne started to survey the beach as she passed by RedRonTheCreep at the start of her shift. He was supposed to wait until she got to the tower, but Ron was the worst lifeguard on the beach and always took off as soon as he spotted his relief person. Gods only knew when he’d show up at the secondary station further down the beach for the back half of his shift. His uncle ran the lifeguard crew and Ron thought he could get away with murder.

Shaking her head while she contemplated reporting him again, Brienne regretted not paying enough attention to her path. Ron took the opportunity to slam into her shoulder and got close to grabbing her barely-there boob before she got her arm up in time to protect herself. One day she’d keep going with the block and break his arm.

Her shift today was three hours on the main part of the beach and then she’d end the day further down where the surfers hung out. The main part of the beach tended to be the problem area. Surfers on Tarth were a mellow group, and that part of the beach wasn’t crowded since the waves were better in the morning. 

On hot, high summer afternoons, the main beach could turn into a mosh pit. Last month had been a mess of tourists and locals competing for space and getting in each other’s way. Brienne had felt more like a traffic cop combined with a preschool teacher than a fully qualified lifeguard.

Reaching the top of the tower, Brienne finished taking a good look around. It wasn’t too bad today. At the end of the summer, the weather was unpredictable on Tarth. The natives tended to give the beach a miss, avoiding the late tourists wanting their money’s worth of sun and fun. Brienne adjusted the umbrella shading her seat, then put on another layer of the highest SPF known to man and enumerated the potential problems that stood out to her.

Concern number one - a beer-bottle-waving mother was occupied with getting the attention of her equally drunk boyfriend/husband who was occupied with eyeing every woman on the beach except his apparently insignificant other. That meant neither of them was occupied with watching out for their three little kids. If Brienne went down and cautioned them it was 60/40 who’d take a swing at her, the mom or the maybe-dad. Might be an option since then she could call the cops to get them off the beach and get those kids out of danger.

Concern number two – a rowdy bunch of barely pubescent boys was already skirting the borders of teasing vs harassing a group of girls who couldn’t seem to decide if they were enjoying the attention or not. The boys were still young enough that Brienne’s size might intimidate them if her authority didn’t. Or she could invite the girls for an impromptu self-defense class on all the ways to crush some balls.

Concern number three - an old guy was ogling everything on the beach with a pair of breasts as his baggy trunks pitched a tent at his crotch. He might be the weenie wager who’d shown up on Tarth recently, according to the alerts that the boss distributed at yesterday’s lifeguard team meeting.

Concern number four - another older man was baking in the sun. He would need to be supplied with water and some shade pretty soon or he’d go down with heatstroke.

The neglectful parents, obnoxious bros-in-training, broiling tourist, and possible sex offender aside, it looked like a pretty easy shift. Maybe she could convince old guy number one to expose himself to the mom and get them both off the beach.

The first hours of her shift went smoothly. Drunk Mom And Drunker Dad got into a loud and profane argument over his ogling of other women. They packed up their towels, their near-empty beer cooler, and, oh yeah, their kids, and took off. Brienne noted what they were driving and texted Officer Goodwin to keep an eye out for them on the road. The sea wasn’t the only danger those kids were facing today.

Pup Tent Man caught Brienne photographing him with her cell phone and, after shooting a gnarled middle finger in her direction, took himself off somewhere else to do things Brienne did not want to contemplate. That text went to Sgt. Bronn, the sole member of Tarth’s Vice Squad.

The Victims Of Adolescent Testosterone Poisoning settled down into less aggressive behavior and convinced the girls to join them at the volleyball net. There were definitely a couple of summer romances brewing if she was any judge. 

The Man Who Wanted To Be A Lobster smiled as he took the bottled water and advice that Brienne handed out about the dangers of sun exposure. He was now covered by SPF100, a hat, and a rented umbrella.

Just a couple more hours of her shift left to go. Robb had arrived to relieve her on the main tower, and Brienne hustled down to the secondary station. It was empty. Ron had left that part of the beach unguarded for hours. They were lucky there hadn’t been some kind of emergency. She texted the boss about it, then settled into the lifeguard’s chair, hoping for a peaceful end to her workday.

But here came trouble.

They pulled up in one of the flashy sports cars rented by the luxury resort on the other side of the island. The resort had its own private (totally fake, man-made) beach with cute cabanas and cuter cabana boys and girls who catered to the every whim of the posh guests for half minimum wage and tips. Still, every once in awhile a gaggle of rich folk would decide to come to the public beach and see how the other half lived.

Two of the group turned every head on the beach. Their voices, with their prep-school accents, carried enough to be sure that they were noticed. 

The girl was exquisite. There was no other word for it. And damn, did she know it. She stalked down the sand like it was a Pentoshi runway and she was the supermodel of the world. She wore a huge, attention-demanding sun hat, her long, golden hair spilling from beneath, almost covering the minuscule red bikini top that hardly restrained her full breasts. The other half of her suit was covered by a printed sarong tied low on her hip, showing off the kind of curves that could have knocked every Miss Westeros of the last decade out of the competition.

The guy walking next to her was equally gorgeous in a masculine way. Golden skin, golden hair, six-pack abs above low slung board shorts. He carried a funboard under one arm. It made his biceps bulge in a way that did things to Brienne’s breathing.

She’d always had a soft spot for the pretty ones.

There were three others with them, though they were dim in the blinding light of the golden bookends. If Brienne had to guess she’d think the group was some college friends enjoying the end of summer free of responsibilities.

_And of a father who wanted to instill a work ethic in his child._

They were about the same age as Brienne but far removed in beauty and sophistication.

As they passed by her chair SuperModel looked upwards, her expression showing contempt for Brienne’s regulation blue tank suit and homely face. She didn’t miss a beat in her tirade for a moment. Brienne liked to think the shrill whine of her voice made her somewhat less beautiful, at least for people not poisoned by excess testosterone.

“I don’t know why we had to come here. Look at these people! My gods, I’m sure most of these suits came from WallMart!” the blonde was aiming her complaints at the golden boy who strolled along beside her.

“The beach here is way better than the one at the resort, Cers. That can hardly even be called a beach. They cart in fresh sand every night to cover up the rocks. And the waves here are supposed to be amazing. I’m never gonna get any better if I keep to that Dad-approved kiddie pool.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to have any opportunity to do any surfing after this. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with learning that stupid … can you even call it a sport?” SuperModel stopped a few steps beyond the lifeguard stand and pulled her companion to a stop. Their friends all shook their heads and continued to an empty stretch of sand.

The afternoon waves tended to be small, Brienne considered. GoldenBoy probably couldn’t get into too much trouble if he were a novice trying his skill on the famous western shore of Tarth. Most of the real surfers had given up in disgust and gone home for the day. The ones who were left were all people Brienne knew. They wouldn’t harass the newbie and his little crew, except to maybe try to get next to SuperModel.

But she’d keep an eye on Goldy just in case. It’s not like it would be any hardship.

“Surfing is great, Cers. You’re too afraid to get your designer bikini wet or you’d be right there with me. And who knows. Maybe I’ll find a place to surf near the Citadel. Oldtown’s right on the water.”

The Citadel, Brienne thought. She’d be attending the same school as GoldenBoy. But The Citadel was huge. She’d likely never see him. Too bad. He was certainly pretty.

The two continued down to their friends, their bickering so practiced that they must be brother and sister rather than boyfriend/girlfriend. It looked like two of the group that came with them were waiting for their attention, a pretty brunette who faded next to SuperModel and olive-skinned man a couple years older who’d given Brienne a once over as he’d passed and hadn’t shown any repulsion.

The afternoon moved towards evening. The tourists on the main beach began to pack up to head to their hotels and then some of Tarth's famous seafood for dinner. The few locals were dozing in the last of the warmth of the day. Brienne kept an eye on all of it, checking in often to make sure GoldenBoy was doing okay. His technique was sloppy. The instructor at the resort was more interested in having full classes and lots of tips than in demonstrating proper form. But Goldy looked like a natural athlete and kept his balance when a lot of others would have wiped out, even on the tiny waves hitting the beach today.

It was close to her shift end when a change in the wind raised gooseflesh along her arms. Brienne took a deep breath and squinted at the horizon. It wasn’t called the Stormlands for nothing. The clouds were a good ways away. The rain wouldn’t hit until after the beach officially closed for the night, though that wouldn’t stop idiots from swimming or surfing without a lifeguard on duty.

But the wind was pushing the sea before it. There were some big waves building out beyond the break.

GoldenBoy’s whoop of delight could be heard even where Brienne was sitting. He started paddling madly, heading out into more open water to face waves he was not prepared to meet.

Brienne was down off the tower before she even realized she was moving. She stopped with the water just breaking over her feet and searched for him with her binoculars. Goldy was still doing okay, though he looked more frightened than exhilarated by the wave he had caught. He was almost back past the break, where things would level out. Brienne saw the mistake before he’d realized he’d gone wrong. The board went flying, Goldy went flying, and the wave rolled over them both, tossing them around like a giant with dice.

His friends gasped as one. His sister did as well, but it sounded less like concern than exasperation.

Goldy did not resurface.

Brienne tossed down the binocs and ran into the water.

“He’s just being dramatic!” the sister called. “He’ll be fine.”

Brienne ignored her. If Goldy hadn’t surfaced by now, something was terribly wrong.

Brienne was a strong swimmer, by far the best on Tarth. It was one of the things that made RedRon and his buddies resent her. She plowed through the water like a torpedo heading for where the board had resurfaced without its rider.

She dove under the waves, searching, searching. 

Even under the water, the sun seemed to love Goldy. Something on his wrist glinted in the light that penetrated the pristine waters of Tarth. Brienne kicked towards that glint before she lost sight of it.

Brienne was breathing hard by the time she dragged GoldenBoy into the shallows. He’d been dead weight the whole way. A quick once over showed a bleeding wound on his head. He must have caught the edge of the board when he came off. 

Once Brienne had him in the shallows, others came down to help her drag Goldy onto the beach. His two male friends took his arms while Brienne gasped for air. It had been a long swim in some rough water. One of the friends was cursing quite fluently as the boy was dragged onto dry sand. The other pulled gingerly and looked green. The two girls from the party had come over, one at an awkward run. As soon as she saw the blood, the brunette started screaming. The other girl, the one Brienne could have sworn was Goldy’s sister, strolled across the sand, not breaking a sweat.

“For gods’ sake, Melara, stop shrieking or I’ll slap you,” SuperModel said. Then she looked pointedly at Brienne. “Well, aren’t you going to help him? That’s your whole job, isn’t it?”

Brienne was already assessing Goldy’s condition. Still unconscious, not breathing. This was so not good. She was going to have to pull out the whole lifeguard’s playbook for this.

While she positioned him for CPR, she began to issue orders to the guy’s friends. 

“One of you, _only one of you_, call 911 and tell them there’s been a surfing accident. The patient is not breathing and has a head wound. Then go up to the street and direct the rescue crew down here. The rest of you stand back.”

Brienne started to administer cardiac massage. She pushed on the Goldy's chest, as she’d practiced so many times. From the corner of her eye, Brienne saw his sister(?) was standing to one side, posturing, doing her best to pull attention back to herself. Which had to be hard when someone was literally fighting for his life in front of you.

“How dare you give me orders!? If you’d been doing your job, this would never have happened. My father will have your job for this. Hells, he’ll have your father’s job, too!”

While Bitchy McBitchface (formerly SuperModel) ranted, Brienne tilted the Goldy’s head back and blew into his mouth twice, like she was supposed to.

“Eww,” ScreamerGirl said. “Cersei, I bet she let him drown just so she could get those big lips on him.”

The older of the two male friends had taken off to wait for the ambulance. Brienne kept looking around, hoping Robb would show up to give her a hand, but no such luck. He was probably chasing tourists off the beach in advance of the storm. Or hitting on the Volantene girl he'd been talking about all week.

Brienne stopped chest compressions again to do mouth to mouth and caught the other friend filming her on his phone. What a bunch of assholes these people were!

There was something, a rattle in his throat, as she breathed into his mouth the second time. She pulled back and turned him on his side just in time for Goldy to throw up about a gallon of seawater on his sister’s sandals.

“Oh, gods, Jaime! These are Sparrow originals!” McBitchface screamed.

One pair of Sparrows cost about what most people made in a month. Brienne’s little smile that wasn’t only from the satisfaction at bringing Goldy back from the dead.

But she wasn’t done. He was dry heaving between groans. His head wound had reopened at the movement. There was blood streaming down the side of his head. Brienne turned to Bitchy.

“Give me your cover-up!” she ordered, putting as much authority in her voice as she could.

“What! This suit is a Donyse.”

“It’s smooth fabric, and I need to stop this bleeding. Give me the damn cover-up or everybody on GlassTube will see that you cared more about your swimsuit than your brother’s life.”

Bitchy McBitchface proved the designation to be apt when she balled up her sarong and threw it in Brienne’s face with the lovely words, “Here, you ugly cunt.” Then she retreated down the beach calling to her two companions to follow her because “Jaime was only crying out for attention again.”

Brienne could hear the sirens in the distance as she tried to make Goldy … Jaime comfortable and keep pressure on what had to be a painful head wound at the same time. A couple of the surfers, who’d known enough to keep back while Brienne did the lifesaving, brought some beach towels over to try and keep Jaime warm while they waited for the ambulance.

He looked up at Brienne through salt reddened eyes that were still the brightest emerald green she’d ever seen on a human being.

“Wha?” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, Jaime,” Brienne kept her voice low and, she hoped, calming. “You came off your surfboard and got hurt. There’s an ambulance almost here. You’re going to be fine.”

“Cers?” he looked around.

“Is that your sister? She’s okay. She’s … gone to wait for the ambulance.”

“Naaaaw. Nah Cers.” Goldy’s … Jaime’s eyes seemed to focus a bit more on her face. Her very homely, unfortunate face. “Who .. you saved me?”

“Yeah,” Brienne could feel her blush heat up bright enough to light up the growing gloom from the storm clouds blowing in.

“Strong. Thanks.”

Before Jaime could say any more, the paramedics came racing down the beach and took over. Brienne described everything that happened as concisely as possible as they took vitals, looked at the head wound, and started to prep him to be moved to a gurney.

“Who should we contact, ser?” one of the paramedics asked.

“His sister is here somewhere,” Brienne supplied.

“Dad … Cliffgarden Resort. Tywin Lannister. But I ... eighteen. Can sign … forms.”

Bitchy McBitchface wandered back over, looking very put out about the whole thing. “I’ve called our father. He’d like his personal assistant to be contacted when a doctor has looked at my brother. Now I must go. There is an important business dinner tonight, and both of us were expected to attend.”

Brienne couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “You aren’t going to the hospital with him?”

The emerald eyes that glowed so brightly in Jaime’s face were like chips of ice in hers. “And what exactly would I be able to do there?”

“Be supportive!” Brienne almost screamed in outrage.

A wet-sounding, weak, bitter chuckle came from Jaime. “Lannisters .. don’t ... supportive.”

Exhaustion hit Brienne all at once, and she sat down hard in the sand.

McBitchface leaned over the gurney and pecked a very perfunctory kiss to her brother’s cheek. “I’ll visit you tomorrow if I can.”

While this little drama played out, one of the paramedics crouched down next to Brienne. “You look all in, Bri. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Sam, it’s just adrenaline crash.”

Jaime looked rather wildly around for her until he spotted her on her butt in the sand. “Hey, she hurt?” he said with more energy than he’d shown since he came back from oblivion. “Come to hospital, too. Ride along.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m fine.” Brienne protested.

He turned big, pleading eyes on her. No matter how cavalier his sister had been, Jaime had almost died out there, all alone in the sea. Brienne couldn’t blame him for wanting an even slightly familiar face with him.

Sam looked from his patient on the gurney to her and then back again. “It couldn’t hurt for you to get checked out. And the doctors may want to hear what happened to Jaime first hand.”

Jaime’s remaining friend, the older more-man-than-boy one, pressed a hand to Brienne’s shoulder. “Go with him, sweetling,” he said in a lilting, Dornish accent. “I think your presence will calm him, make him feel safe.”

DornishFriend leaned over Jaime as Sam’s partner, Edd, huffed impatiently. “I will make sure Cersei gets back to the resort, my friend, and bring Tyrion to the hospital for you.”

“We have got to go,” Edd began to push the gurney towards the where the ambulance was parked up the beach. “If you’re coming, Bri, now’s the time.”

One of Jaime’s hands reached out towards her. 

_Oh, what the hells!_

“I’m coming. If I can borrow a cell, I’ll call the boss and let him know what happened, so he can get somebody out here to help Robb clear the beach before the storm hits.”

"And call your dad," Sam said.

Brienne smiled. "Yeah, I think he's got a dinner meeting he's going to want to cancel."

Jaime's eyes widened.

Brienne leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Family is important on Tarth. And to the Tarths." 

Brienne walked alongside the gurney all the way to the ambulance. Somehow her hand found its way into Jaime’s.

And they never let go of one another again.


End file.
